


the long and winding road

by AWitchOfMind (MroBeta)



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: (but it's not referenced after that), Angst, Character Study, Found Family, Gen, Implied transphobia at the start, Possibly canon divergence?, Pre/Post Canon, Pretty much takes a turn for the worst after the first half, Very loose idea of what 'doomed' means
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:41:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23843923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MroBeta/pseuds/AWitchOfMind
Summary: If they complained, it was always ‘my house, my rules’ and ‘wait until you’re older’. Once they were an adult, they could do what they wanted.Fourteen is close enough, right?(Written for the Rusty Quill Gaming Exchange 2020)
Relationships: Sam & Betty | Bette, Sam & Cleo
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16
Collections: Rusty Quill Gaming Exchange 2020





	the long and winding road

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miri1984](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miri1984/gifts).



> I hope you like this fic! I just really love Sam and the Monster Of The Week special in general.
> 
> Warnings for:  
> -Implied transphobia/prejudice against NB people at the start  
> -Murder (of something that deserves it)  
> -Major character death (probably know from the special)  
> -Implied death following that
> 
> (hopefully this isn't too dark)

Sam hated being a kid.

At home, they didn’t have any freedom. They always had to do what their parents told them: do your homework, be on your best behaviour, stop making up those stupid stories and live in the  _ real world _ . They weren’t allowed to be themself. They had to ‘pick one’. And if they complained, it was always ‘my house, my rules’ and ‘wait until you’re older’. Once they were an adult, they could do what they wanted.

Fourteen is close enough, right? 

What do adults do? Adults don’t have to live at home with their parents. Adults drive, so Sam took their dad’s old car (it was so beaten up, surely he wouldn’t miss it that much?). They took the rifle too, because adults can fire a gun. A kid wouldn’t have those, so nobody would question them. They’re eighteen, which means they can do what they want to.

Admittedly, Sam didn’t know  _ exactly _ what to do after they left home. They probably didn’t have enough money to stay at a hotel for longer than a couple of nights, it would be suspicious if they tried to stay with a relative, and they weren’t the best at geography. The best plan they had was to keep driving for as long as possible (until the fuel ran out - they’d cross that bridge when they got to it). At least, that  _ was _ the plan, until they ran into a figure hunched over in the middle of the road.

It was inevitable, considering they never actually learned to drive, but Sam nearly panicked when they saw the blood that  _ must  _ have been because of them. The last thing they wanted was to be arrested for murder in the middle of the country. When they realised that it was because of the lady with the knife, and that hitting the figure was a good thing, they immediately shifted into reverse and hit the gas pedal. Running over it a second time seemed to do the trick. 

“Did you see that? Did you see what I did? What even was that?” Sam said, hopping out of the driver’s seat next to the woman. If they kept talking, maybe their nerves would die down a little bit. The woman looked up at them from where she was inspecting the corpse. She looked at them for longer than was probably necessary, and Sam nearly started to feel self-conscious. Nearly. 

“A cultist,” she finally replied, putting the knife away and positioning herself so Sam couldn’t see it. Sam felt a small rush of indignation - they were an adult, they could handle seeing a dead body.

“Is it dead?”   


“Yes.”

She stood up to leave, but Sam wasn’t done with this yet. “So do you, like, hunt these guys as a job?”

“... Yes.”

“Wicked.” Monster-hunting sounded like an awesome job. Maybe this lady could teach them a thing or two. “I’m Sam!”

“Cleo.”

“Y’know, maybe I could help you out with this hunting thing. You’ve seen what this car can do, and I’ve got a gun as well! We could work as a team!”

“Kid, how old are you exactly? Twelve?”

Sam felt their face grow hot. They weren’t a kid, and they certainly weren’t  _ twelve _ . “I’m eighteen!” they said, ignoring the way their voice cracked. Cleo didn’t look convinced. “Look, would a  _ kid  _ have something like this?”

They pulled the rifle out of the back seat, definitely not fumbling with it for a second before holding it up. The initial shock on Cleo’s face brought a smile to their own, but both quickly faded when she spoke again.

“Do you even know how to shoot? It’s much more dangerous than you think out here. You shouldn’t be out on your own.”

“Well… neither should you! I basically saved your life.” They weren’t about to be intimidated by a brief glare. “Okay, how about I give you a ride to the next town?”

Eventually, after a short inner conflict in her head, Cleo gave in. “Fine, but I’ll drive.”

“No way! It’s  _ my  _ car.” Sam climbed back into the driver’s seat as Cleo sighed and sat in shotgun. The car lurched forward and sped down the road, and it was at least a couple of miles before they both realised they should probably do something about the body.

**~-:-~**

That was how Sam met one of the coolest people they had ever known. Obviously they tried to make themself act as cool as possible too, especially with Cleo’s guidance. She did warm up to them eventually with the help of Betty. Sam had hoped that Betty would teach them how to do magic - they didn’t always succeed, but she was probably better at it because she was a ghost. Sam didn’t need magic to hunt monsters though. They had the gun, Cleo had her weapons, Betty could do spooky ghost stuff - pretty much the perfect team, even if they could be unnecessarily protective of them.

They… were, anyway. They were the perfect team.

Sam had watched Cleo charge at a monster for the— the last time, and watched as Betty disintegrated trying to save her. They had watched as both of their teammates died, and they couldn’t do anything to help.

(They should have. But what could they do in that situation?)

Before all of this, they were trapped. Now they’re... alone. Is that worse?

At least they still have the car. An old, rusting car and an unloaded rifle. The town is still recovering after an unprecedented knucker attack, so Sam gets in the car and drives. 

And drives.

And narrowly avoids a bolt of lightning striking the road.

The car screeches to a halt as they pull over onto the grass, heart pounding. They try to ignore the deep feeling of dread settling in their chest. They try not to think about the other car on the road, the one that was only an inch away from the strike.

The dread doesn’t go away, but once the adrenaline dies down, they keep driving.

For a while, Sam tries to build up a new monster-hunting group. Not everyone believes them when they say they know what they’re doing - they’re eighteen, they  _ have _ to know - but they try anyway. They can’t go home, and meeting new people helps to distract from the ones they lost, even though they would never find a team like Betty and Cleo. It’s something, right?

The new ones never last long. If they’re lucky, they leave before it gets too dangerous. If they’re not… sometimes the deaths are quick. Sam quickly learns to stop getting too attached to new members. The heartbreak becomes familiar, and eventually they decide to just hunt alone. The dread becomes a constant, but they always manage to survive whatever they encounter. Not like… like the others.

That’s fine. A lot of adults work on their own, don’t they? If it is safer, then it’s the best option. At some point bartenders stopped questioning them whenever they ordered a drink - that was half the fun of trying to buy alcohol. Sam was too afraid to stay and do anything about that. People didn’t tend to last long around them anymore.

So they hunt on their own. And they drive. They fight monsters. They save lives… sometimes. The dread remains. 

It’s better than home. They know that, even as they start to reach fifteen and sixteen (not eighteen, not… yet). But after everything that has happened, living on their own, being independent... that doesn’t feel so appealing anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies if it's not quite as polished as other fics of this kind. Hopefully I did the characters justice.


End file.
